JE/NEWS- "One Thousand and One NEWS Nippon Nights" (3/8)
*****
Later that afternoon, Koyama comes back from his lunch break with Tegoshi and finds Shige hunched over a pad and paper, furiously scribbling away and looking kind of irritated and excited all at once.
“Shige, are you working on something complicated? Shouldn’t you take your lunch break now?” Koyama asks him, when the vein in Shige’s forehead starts to throb and he can’t help but interrupt, because he worries about Shige’s stress levels sometimes. Stress is bad for the heart and makes you fat.
Shige gives a small start, looking up from his work at the sound of his best friend’s voice, pencil still poised just over the paper. “What? Oh, no, I’m working on the next story,” he explains after a beat.
Koyama manages a small smile. “You’re working on it so intently, ne.”
Shige shrugs. “Well, when I look back over the last one from a technical standpoint, it was pretty sloppy.”
A blink. “How so?”
Shige snorts. “You didn’t notice? Of course you didn’t. I switched narrative perspectives in the middle of the story like three times without so much as a warning or a break. It was completely amateur.”
Koyama, because he should know literature, all things considered, thinks about it some. “I don’t know, I thought it made the story pop,” he concludes after a moment, completely sincere. “It was exciting knowing what Massu was thinking and then suddenly knowing what Matsumoto-kun was thinking, you know? It’s not often guys like us can get into a sempai’s head like that.”
“Fiction,” Shige reminds him. “I made it all up.”
Koyama laughs. “But it was still pretty believable!”
Shige sighs. “Whatever. From now on I’m signaling perspective changes ahead of time. Otherwise I’ll judge myself.”
Koyama thinks about this. “How?” he asks, when he can’t figure it out. “I mean, it’s an oral story, ne. It would be weird if you paused the story just to tell us that the perspective is changing.”
Shige nods in agreement. “I’ll find a way.”
Koyama beams at him. “I’m sure you will.”
Shige moves to start writing again, but is forced to stop when Ryo returns from his solo-corner rehearsal faster than Shige had accounted for. He marches right up to the two of them and plops down in a chair across from Shige, looking expectant.
“Well?” Ryo asks.
Shige sighs, tucking the paper he’d been working on behind his back. “Right. So there’s this other story...”
*****
The History of the Fisherman (or Even Though Shige Has Bad Luck He is Awesome)
On a day that involved dropping his wallet in a puddle, losing his cell phone, and bruising both of his shins, Shige is taking a walk around his neighborhood to work out some of his frustration when he hears a strange noise coming out of a dark alleyway.
It’s a vague, scratching noise, like the kind you hear in horror stories about during overnight school trips or in scary movies out of Asia (it’s too subtle to be the kind of noise you hear in scary movies out of America, as there is no screaming or sawing or spurting to accompany it). At first, Shige thinks it must be a cat, but then there is a decided thud that follows, and a shifting in the trash of the alley that makes Shige think it is definitely too big to be an animal, unless that animal is a bear.
A low, pained moan confirms his suspicions that it is indeed a human, and he hopes that when he turns into the alleyway (because it is his civic duty), he will find a slightly hung-over office worker and not someone who has been mugged and is slowly bleeding to death on the floor.
But then again, it’s been one of those days.
Shige takes a deep breath and goes into the alleyway.
Where he doesn’t find anything, not right away, anyhow.
But then there is another moan, and when Shige turns right he sees a dumpster that has very suspiciously been tied shut.
He slaps a hand to his forehead. That is definitely not a slightly hung-over office worker. Biting the inside of his cheek, he strides forward and starts to untie the ropes holding the dumpster lid down. He wishes that his phone had not bitten the dust earlier today, otherwise he would just call the police and leave it at that, but with how things have been going for him lately, the person inside will die while he’s waiting for the EMTS and everyone in the person’s family will blame him for being a coward and stare accusatorily at him during the funeral.
He slowly opens the dumpster and peers inside.
And he finds a man, just like he’d feared, tied up, beaten, bloody from an angry looking gash in his chest, and barely conscious. Shige stares for a moment, before the adrenaline kicks in and he forgets about things like a shitty day and broken phones and how much trouble this is, because someone’s life is clearly in danger. So he shoves the dumpster lid back against the wall and ducks into the dumpster; he manages to get a good hold on the man’s rumpled silver suit and uses his entire body as a counterweight to pull the poor guy out.
Of course he ends up falling on his ass with a very large man on top of him in the middle of the alley, and the only thing that could have made this day any worse is probably irreparably staining the really nice pants Koyama had bought him for his last birthday.
The man gives a groggy grunt when they hit the ground as a reminder that there are more important things than Shige’s pants going on right now, prompting the idol to scramble into a sitting position and reach out to untie the man’s hands. It’s a bit of a struggle but Shige had tied enough fishing knots (incorrectly) with Ohno-kun on their epic fishing adventures that he’s used to untying complicated things as well, and with a little patience, he manages to get the man’s hands free.
The man gives a start when his hands are suddenly untied, and he blinks blearily around two eyes nearly swollen shut. “Wha… he manages, but Shige puts a steadying hand on his arm and eases him back so that he can lean against the wall for support.
Shige digs around in the man’s pockets until he finds a phone, thankfully still working, and hastily dials the number for emergency services. He keeps a sharp eye on the injured man while he reports to the operator about their location and the nature of the man’s injuries; she tells him in a calm voice to put pressure on the wound on the man’s chest until the paramedics can arrive, but to make sure not to come into any direct contact with the blood himself.
Shige sighs and reaches into his bag after he hangs up, pulling out the very nice sweater that Massu had gotten him for his last birthday, because it is the only thing he has inside that will keep him out of contact with the man’s blood. Muttering darkly to himself, Shige kneels beside the man again, wraps the sweater around his hand a couple of times, and starts to push against the wound, which gives a gross, sucking, wet noise when he does.
The man grunts in pain, muscles stiffening and eyes going scared and wild.
“Just um, relax for a bit here,” Shige tells him, in his best impression of Yamapi’s soothing, confident voice. “I just called the police and the ambulance is on the way. But I need to do this to stop the bleeding.”
Rather than getting a nod or a grateful look like he’d expected, Shige suddenly feels a hand like steel reach out to grab his wrist. “No police,” the man manages to rasp out, voice somehow sounding weak and threatening all at once.
“Uh,” Shige manages, and glances down at the bloody hand, clamped vice-like around his wrist. Sometimes Shige thinks he’s fat, but then he remembers he’s an idol and even he can look delicate and thin when put next to the right person. This guy, he notices, for the first time, is kind of massive. And he’s in an all-silver suit, and definitely does not have the build of a host or a celebrity.
The warning bells start to go off just as the man sits up on his own power and cricks his neck, groaning darkly.
“I uh, already called the police,” Shige informs him, trying to keep his voice steady. “They’re on their way.”
The man grimaces and swats Shige’s other hand away from his wound. That is when Shige notices that the guy is missing his entire pinky finger and goddammit of course today would end with him finding a half-dead yakuza in a dumpster while he’d been trying to clear his head.
“Maybe I should go?” Shige manages, after a beat of sheer, mind-numbing terror. “I could go. I’ll just…”
He moves to rise and run the hell out of there, but the guy still has that bear-trap grip on his wrist and pulls, sending Shige stumbling to the floor, his head basically slamming into the man’s shoulder.
“I was trying to help you!” Shige protests, and gives up on struggling when his wrist gives a painful kind of twinge that tells him he’s not getting it back intact if he keeps moving. “Isn’t there a good Samaritan law or something I can invoke?!”
The man sighs. “You should have left me alone,” he growls, and while he is keeping a hold of Shige and bleeding everywhere, somehow manages to struggle to his feet. “Then we both could have gone on our ways.”
“You’re dying,” Shige points out, because he can’t help it.
The man, huffing and pale, manages a wary smile. “Exactly. And now that you’re a witness to all of this, you have to die too.”
“What? Why?!” he screams, just as the wail of sirens starts up in the distance.
The man shakes his head sadly. “I’m a member of the Minami-gumi,” he begins, like Shige cares anymore. “I was put in that dumpster over there by my boss and the rest of the family for failing my last mission and getting two of my brothers killed. If you’d let me die without informing the police I would have passed on mysteriously, and the Minami-gumi would have continued to take care of my wife and kids. But now that the cops are involved and I’m not dead yet, shame will be brought on my relatives and trouble will come to my group.”
Shige balks. “Why didn’t you just not tell me that?!” he demands.
The yakuza shrugs and cracks his knuckles menacingly. “Look,” he says, as he advances on Shige, “since you were just trying to be nice to me and help, I’ll be as nice as I can back and let you pick the way I off you.”
Shige manages not to make a derisive statement about how that is the worst reward ever, choosing instead to try and think of something to get out of this.
After a minute, he sighs kind of hopelessly and gestures to the yakuza. “I don’t really care how you do it, but I do have a request,” he begins, sounding tragic. “Tell me how you got into this situation in the first place.”
The yakuza looks surprised by the request, but eventually nods. “I knew I was dead the minute I failed the mission,” he says, shrugging nonchalantly as the wail of sirens gets closer. “So they sent me into this trap and my lieutenant stabbed me while I wasn’t expecting it and then tied me up and put me in this dumpster.” He pauses then, and looks resigned.
Shige looks on sympathetically. He doesn’t feel particularly sympathetic though, because hey, this guy is going to kill him. Then, he looks thoughtful. “So you’re saying one guy, by himself, got the jump on you, stabbed you, and then tied you up and dragged you into that dumpster without anyone noticing?”
The yakuza nods, and bends to pick up the rope that had been bound to his hands and feet just now, wrapping it around his hands in a way that Shige definitely doesn’t like.
Shige hastily speaks again. “So that guy must have been really huge to be able to do that to you, right? I mean, you’re pretty big yourself.”
The yakuza shakes his head. “No, Kazuki’s about your size, really.”
Shige stares. “No way. There’s no way a guy my size could get the drop on a guy your size and then drag you into a dumpster without anyone else hearing it.”
The yakuza looks indignant on his brother’s behalf. “Kazuki’s strong.”
Shige crosses his arms and looks judgmental; Koyama always tells him he’s really good at being judgmental (Koyama also thinks he’s complimenting Shige when he says that). “Fine, show me then.”
The yazuka glares. “Why?”
Shige tries not to take a step backwards under the dark look the man is sending his way. “Because I don’t believe Kazuki’s strong, okay?”
The glare intensifies. “Fine, brat,” the yazuka mutters, and turns to face the dumpster again. “I was standing like this, okay? And then Kazuki told me that the package we were picking up for boss was hidden in the dumpster, so I went forward to the dumpster like this, and put the lid up. Then, when I was busy looking in, Kazuki grabbed me and stabbed me.”
The yakuza turns around there, holding his hands up as if he’s reacting to being stabbed. “Then, while I was reeling from the pain, he knocked me out with a blow to the head.”
“Then what?” Shige asks.
The yakuza looks annoyed. “I don’t know, I was unconscious. I must have stumbled backwards, like this…” he pauses to stumble backwards until his back is lined up with the dumpster. “And fallen in, and while I was blacked out, Kazuki probably tied me up and then tied the dumpster shu…”
Shige shoves the yakuza back into the dumpster. “Like this?” he asks, and quickly slams the lid closed.
From inside, the yakuza sounds irritated. “Yeah, probably.”
“And then,” Shige pants, quickly grabbing the rope that he’d left on half-tied to the dumpster lid and retying the knots, “he tied you in like this?”
“Yeah, like this. Now lemme out so I can kill you. The cops will be here any minute now.”
Shige, knees shaking, takes a few bumbling steps backwards, until his back hits the opposite wall of the alleyway. Heart racing, he stops to admire his handiwork.
“Well,” he begins, after a beat, “what do you know? I guess a guy my size can do all that.”
A moment.
Then, from inside the dumpster, there is a very large, very resigned sigh. “Shit.”
END
*****
When Shige finishes his tale, he is surprised to note that all of the members have since joined Koyama and Ryo in a circle around him, Massu looking worried, Tegoshi looking amazed, and Yamapi with both fists raised on either side of his face in an Ashita no Joe boxing position, like he’s imagining how he would have beaten that mean yakuza into submission if he’d been there with Shige.
Ryo on the other hand, looks highly skeptical. “You’re telling me you managed to outsmart a yakuza who was threatening to kill you and not piss your pants while you were at it? Do you think I’m an idiot or something?”
Shige stares at him. “How the hell is me outsmarting a dying criminal less believable to you than Matsumoto-kun showing mercy?” he demands right back, because really?
Ryo just crosses his arms. “You got me all excited for a really good story and now you’ve disappointed me. I feel like I need to take this out on the world,” he declares, point blank, and makes Shige instantly suspicious.
The others are too good-natured (or stupid) to notice how specific Ryo is being and hasten to his side with placating expressions. “Shige has lots more awesome stories, Ryo-chan,” Yamapi assures Ryo, punching his older friend companionably in the arm. “He’ll keep telling you all the ones he knows until you’re satisfied, don’t worry.”
Ryo arches an eyebrow. “He will?”
Shige’s looks is even more incredulous than Ryo’s. “I will?”
Yamapi smiles peacefully. “Won’t you?”
“Won’t you?” Massu repeats, looking kind of awed.
“Please, Shige!” Tegoshi adds, and it’s the please coming out of his mouth (for once) that kind of puts Shige at a loss for words.
“Uh…yeah, okay,” he says, eventually, under the power of all those bright eyes.
“Yay!” NEWS cheers, while behind them, their manager clears his throat and motions to his watch and then to the rehearsal stage to his left.
“But after work,” Shige adds, before Koyama can.
“And only if everything goes smoothly, right?” Ryo offers casually, as he stands up and pads towards the stage.
Shige thinks he might be grinning as he says it, but it’s really hard to tell from this angle.
As he gets up and wordlessly follows his groupmates, he can’t help but wonder.
*****
The next afternoon, as they’re meeting up to take the train from Tokyo to Osaka in order to prepare for the first round of concerts at the Kyocera Dome, Tegoshi arrives at the station to find Shige already sitting at the stop waiting for the others. He is scribbling in a notebook and downing coffee every few seconds with a simultaneously ferocious and crazed look of concentration on his face that Tegoshi hasn’t seen from anyone since his college’s last round of finals.
Grinning, Tegoshi decides that this is obviously the perfect opportunity for a little prank, and ducking low, he balances his weight on his toes and creeps up on Shige from behind like a cat hunting a mouse. Whatever Shige is doing, he’s so engrossed in it that Tegoshi manages to get close enough to his friend to feel the warmth radiating from Shige’s back. Tegoshi waits a moment just like that, poised immediately behind Shige, before he jumps forward suddenly and grabs Shige by the shoulders. “Shige!” he shouts cheerfully as he shakes his groupmate, “What are you doing?!”
Shige yells and nearly spills his coffee all over the bench. His notebook and pen do end up hitting the floor, and the idol himself probably would have fallen out of his seat as well, if not for his younger groupmate’s hands bunched tightly on either shoulder.
“I hate you so much right now,” Shige pants a moment later, hand clutched over his heart as he struggles to get his breathing back to normal. “Who does that to someone?”
Tegoshi is laughing too hard to properly answer, and sighing, Shige bends down to pick up his notebook and pen again. “You do realize that you’re disrupting the very important work I do that might save this tour, don’t you?”
Tegoshi blinks. “You’re designing hot-air balloons?” he asks, after a beat.
Shige scowls at him. “Stop pretending to be a moron, I know you aren’t.”
Tegoshi preens like all Shige is doing is complementing him when he says that. Then he settles onto the bench next to his friend, rests his chin on Shige’s shoulder, and commences to read over it like no one will notice how annoying that is.
Shige nudges him. “Get off, you’re ruining my flow. Writing these things takes time and concentration, you know. It’s an art. Kind of.”
Tegoshi nods. “Sure,” he says. “People do it about us on the internet all the time. Some of the things I’ve seen are really long too, just like Shige’s story.”
Shige sputters. “This is totally not the same as that…that stuff!”
“Why not? You’re writing stories about us doing stuff that we’ve never actually done.”
“It’s totally different when I do it.” Shige tries to enumerate the reasons in his brain. “First of all, no one writing any of that stuff on the internet knows any of us.”
Tegoshi looks skeptical. “How do you know? It’s the internet. For all we know, our moms could be writing this stuff about us.”
“Please never say that again,” Shige says, sternly, and even Tegoshi has to look apologetic when he realizes what kind of disturbing connotations his last statement had conjured up. But he still has a point. “Also,” Tegoshi adds, suddenly deciding to sound smart now, “They know stuff about us from being famous. Some of the people you’re writing in your stories you don’t know very well outside of work either. That’s kind of the same right? You only know Matsumoto-kun’s work behavior, since I’m pretty sure Shige doesn’t hang out with him.”
Shige frowns. “Okay, true,” he concedes, reluctantly. “But talking to someone in real life is way better than just seeing what the company puts out for us on TV and stuff, isn’t it? At least my stories have a bit more realism to them.”
“Maybe,” Tegoshi allows, clearly being generous when he says that. “But that doesn’t change the fact that none of the stuff you’re writing and none of the stuff they’re writing is real.” He waves his hand around emphatically. “I could write about Sakamoto-kun doing cartwheels in a field of lavender. I don’t know for sure if he’s ever done it, but I don’t know for sure that he’s never done it either. Or that he never will. I mean, what if these people writing about us just know stuff about us that we don’t even know about ourselves yet? They are extrapolating from prior evidence, after all. Maybe one day we’ll accidentally prove them right and not even know it. Then is their fiction still fiction or has it suddenly become reality?”
Shige really doesn’t want to discuss this right now. “Okay so maybe I’m technically writing fanfiction about us, so what?” he snaps, impatiently. “Are you offended that I’m extrapolating about how I think you’d act from prior knowledge of how I’ve seen you act? I’m not trying to write a new religion out of this or something, Christ. All I want is for you to listen to it and maybe be a little bit entertained for a while. It’s not real, and even if it does become real, how does that matter after the fact?”
Tegoshi shakes his head. “I guess it doesn’t,” he says, simply. “And I’m not offended, Shige. I think your fanfiction is pretty in-character, ne.” Pause. “Can I be a hero in the next one?”
Shige huffs. “Maybe.”
Tegoshi pokes Shige again. “Ne, do you think Ryo-kun knows it’s all fake?”
Shige shrugs. “I don’t know,” he offers noncommittally, though he does have his suspicions.
Tegoshi, satisfied, continues to rest his head on Shige’s shoulder as they wait for everyone else to arrive and promptly falls asleep.
Shige keeps writing.
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